Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Why I Won't Cuddle My Daughter Anymore


For this week, I naively rearranged my half marathon training schedule so I could capitalize on the predicted sunny and warm spring weather. That meant Monday and Tuesday were rest days with a few rounds of strength training.  I enjoyed the downtime and was even able to perform the Food Intolerance Test my nutritionist gave me. Life was good and everything was going smoothly.

Then I had to put my 3 year old daughter to bed.

Over the last several weeks I've grown to dread our once private and pleasant Mommy - daughter cuddle fests in her big girl bed. She would tell me all about who hit and pushed who in her Nursery Class and I would listen with rapt attention. Then something changed. She became wild at bedtime and our cuddles turned into kicks and headbutts. It was painful. I barely endured it. I secretly didn't want to cuddle with her anymore.
Ahoy, mateys!  It's a pirate's life for me.

This particular Tuesday night was no different from the rest. She went bonkers at bedtime.  All of my questions to find out the events of her day were answered with silly noises and nonsense. I finally sang her the bedtime song she's had since she was a baby: "Soft Kitty" from the TV show The Big Bang Theory. At the end I leaned in for one last kiss and it was met with the most horrific pain I've ever felt. It took everything I had to not scream and fling obscenities at her. I managed an, "I'm all done with this!" before I stormed out the door and slammed it behind me.
I ran into the bathroom to quickly wash my face in the hopes of alleviating some pain. It almost helped.

I jumped into the shower and tried to forgot that my 3 year old just punched me in the eye.

Only, she didn't punch me in the eye, but I didn't know that yet. Even when I woke up at 3 am with a swollen eye that dripped tears like a leaky faucet I didn't think anything different, just, "Wow, she got me good!"  At 5:30 am when my alarm went off and I quite literally stumbled out of bed and couldn't open my right eye because of the blinding pain, I started to get concerned.

I told myself and my husband that I just needed some ice and ibuprofen and I'd be fine. Don't worry about me. I've got this. I even straightened my hair with a burning hot flat iron with my eyes closed thinking I'd still be going to work.

I'm in total control. I've got this.

2 hours of icing my eye and 800 MG of ibuprofen later and I was ready to relinquish control and give up. Somewhere around the 1 hour mark I had called work to let them know I'd be a little late, "Oh no big deal, my daughter punched me in the eye and I'm blind now."

 It was now time to wave the white flag and call the doctor's office.

After explaining my situation and admitting that just maybe, maybe my daughter didn't just punch me in the eye but she actually scratched it, the nurse told me that I had better come in to get checked out and not to drive.

1 mile walk from hell, but we met a cat.
Luckily, my father lives only a half hour away so he was able to drive me to my appointment which was a good thing because by that point the only way I felt good was to lay down with my eyes closed. The dangerous part about that was my 3 year old, who was home with me, knows how to open doors. She kept begging me to go out and play. As tempted as I was to kick her out of
the house for beating me up, I silently thanked our landlord for installing a deadbolt and crawled back to the couch.

The doctor confirmed my suspicion - I had a scratched cornea.   When putting Scarlett to bed she hadn't punched me, she scratched the outer protective layer of my eye and left a good sized abrasion.
The remedy was an eye patch, eye drops and a follow-up appointment in 2 days. Oh, and no work or driving for the rest of the day. Sounds great, right?

Needless to say, the rest of my day was spent watching kids' TV shows and "relaxing" while watching my 3 year old with my eyes closed. Because I'm stubborn as hell, we managed to take a 1 mile walk around the neighborhood which I almost instantly regretted.

 And I thought I was going to run 7 miles that day!

"Mommy, I'm a pirate!"  Glad you think it's funny, kid.
A very sweaty 5K 3 days "after."
In the end, (a lot of) wine was consumed, a candy bar was eaten and I resumed normal activities the next day. By Friday, I was running again and that same day I found out the abrasion was completely gone. Who knew the eyes heal so quickly? 

I know you are all wondering if I still snuggle with Scarlett at bedtime anymore and the answer is I do not. She knows she poked mommy in the eye and it made her a pirate for the day, which was not as fun as it may seem.  She's not happy I won't cuddle in her big girl bed anymore but she knows that when she learns to settle down we will try again. Until then I simply sing her our bedtime song, give her a kiss while I hold her hands down to her sides and then quickly flee the room because this Momma is no dummy.